To catch a killer

Bhaskar Chattopadhyay delves into the mind of a serial killer in his deeply-disturbing debut novel

June 15, 2016 03:41 pm | Updated October 18, 2016 12:40 pm IST - Bengaluru

Flying high : Bhaskar Chattopadhyay

Flying high : Bhaskar Chattopadhyay

A deranged killer, a driven cop, media frenzy and murders most foul. Bhaskar Chattopadhyay’s Patang (Hachette, Rs. 350) is all this and more. The novel, which director Sriram Raghavan has described as a “fast paced atmospheric thriller” is set during the monsoon in Mumbai as the city is in the grip of a serial killer. While Patang is Bhaskar’s first novel, he is an acclaimed translator.

A hard-core cineaste, a fan of the works of Jim Corbett and Bengali detective fiction (he didn’t hate Dibaker Banerjee’s Detective Byomkesh Bakshy! ) the 38-year-old author lives in Sarjapur. He talks about his inspirations, media and serial killers.

Excerpts

In interviews you have counted Christie, Doyle and Chesterton as your favourites. Patang however is not a cosy crime — in fact, it reminded me of Thomas Harris’ Silence of the Lambs

Different authors have their own individual styles, different books have their own unique voice and pace. Patang is definitely not cosy, I’d imagine it keeps the reader guessing and it often comes with rude jolts in the form of plot twists. It is also quite dark and hard-hitting.

I’m not sure why it reminds you of Harris’ novel, but yes, it was intended to make sure that the reader does not rest easy.

The media has a strong presence in Patang . The book opens with Maya, there is also idealistic Ananya and Rathod started his career as a crime journalist. Your next novel, Penumbra , has a journalist as the protagonist. Why?

You see, there is an opportunity for the media to play a big role in a serial killer thriller like Patang . More often than not, news about such killers tend to catch the fancy of the common man. And the common man feels the need to know more about the story. What is going to happen next? Will he strike again? Who is his latest victim? How will the police nab him? Hence the media. Also, an important plot element in Patang actually necessitates that the media play a significant role in the story. As for Penumbra , the media’s presence in the plot is just incidental.

Rathod speaks against the glamorisation of serial killers. Are serial killers built up by the media?

No, serial killers are born as a result of deprivation — of love, respect, dignity, morality, and everything else that usually constitute a beautiful and fulfilling human life. Irrespective of the reasons or motivations, what serial killers do is wrong, sinful, and they should be checked and stopped. But like all problems, like all evil, it is important that we understand what went wrong, only then will we able to truly address the problem and curb the evil.

Could you talk about Sriram Raghavan’s involvement in the novel?

Sriram read the novel and liked it. He was kind to endorse the novel with a cover quote, and I’m happy to have been associated with a filmmaker, film-fan and book lover like him.

In an interview you said the novel started off as 30-page film treatment and grew into Patang . Will there be a film version?

Well, it was initially written as a treatment for the screen, and then when there was a requirement that I flesh out some more details, it turned into a full-fledged novel. Every story written for the screen wants to make it to the screen, of course, I guess it will happen when the time is right.

Could you talk about the research process and how you came up with the inventively gruesome murders?

The murders are integral to the plot, and the plot is a product of imagination. I can’t think of any ‘process’ to that, honestly. The research, of course, was to ensure that there are no factual errors in whatever I imagined.

What are the pros and cons of translation?

That is an interesting question! Translation, you see, is an outcome of a deep-rooted need to share. Has it ever happened to you that you liked a dish at a restaurant so much that when you meet your friend, you tell her or him that you simply have to try this? Or you read an interesting article and immediately tell your friend, listen to this and then read it out aloud? It is the same principle. The need to share something that you have enjoyed is a very potent urge, it is one of many things which make us social animals. And in that sense, translations are not merely good-to-have, they are absolutely essential. They make you address that urge and experience the thrill of someone seeing in it what you have seen in it. Also, translations gives people the opportunity to explore a new world, think of it as a vehicle that you ride so that you can explore a new territory. Translations bind people, they break through the walls we have erected and cross over the lines that we have drawn on the face of the earth, and their sole intent is to bring us together.

How such a beautiful thing can have cons - I can’t imagine, but yes, there do exist some caveats in translations. Like all useful tools, if not used with care, a translation can do more harm than good. A translator has great responsibilities.

You are a fan of Jim Corbett. What do you like about his writing?

Several things. Consider, for instance, the fact that he is writing about the jungle. How boring! How long can one continue to write about trees and plants and hills and chasms, without losing a grip on his readers’ attention? And yet, not even for a single moment, does the reader’s attention wane. How is that possible? How did he do it? Imagine how powerful a wordsmith he would have been, to be able to pull off something like that! His language is vivid, and yet so grounded that you feel he is almost helping you along. No sign of showing off, no unnecessary deliberations, no pompous descriptions of the woods. Just a plain stating of facts, a clear and concise portrayal of a picture, a simple narration of his motive - if these are not hallmarks of a great writer, I don't know what is.

There is a tradition of detective fiction in Bengali. What is the reason for this?

I’m not sure if this has got anything to do with demography (smiles). I think everyone likes intelligence, and when the intelligence is superior to one’s own, one would tend to admire it, at least secretly. Also, detectives are almost always painted in white strokes — almost no grey and absolutely zero black ones. This happens to the extent that even when a detective commits a crime (be it Poirot, or Holmes), we actually justify it and root for him. I think in Bengal, with the flourishing of serialized fiction, and thanks to the success of early attempts, everyone tried their hands at this genre. And quite a few of them became quite successful themselves, in turn. But honestly, I don't think a Bengali would love his detective any more than anyone else from any other province.

What did you think of the Dibakar Banerjee's Byomkesh Bakshi movie?

It was a deliberately different take on the character that Sharadindu Bandyopadhyay had created, and I’m absolutely fine with that. I didn’t dislike the movie, although I felt that certain plot elements could have been used better. From the point of view of technical prowess, it is a fantastic film, but when it comes to storytelling, I wished it would capture my imagination a bit more. I must also tell you that it is very difficult to film a whodunit, which is perhaps why there are so few of them. The big revelation at the end, where the detective goes on a verbal tirade to explain how the crime was committed and how he solved it, often tends to be very boring and doesn't help the screenplay. Satyajit Ray used to feel the same, which is why, for the two films that he adapted from his own whodunits, he answered the who himself and announced the culprits right at the beginning, and then let the audience enjoy the thrill of how the detective nabs them. In the third film, which was an adaptation of a Byomkesh Bakshi novel by Sharadindu Babu, Ray follows the traditional format, which is perhaps why the film is widely considered to be his worst. Dibakar's movie deliberately tries to be more of an action-oriented adventure than a thinking exercise. And in any case, a thinking exercise does not work in the film format. You see, a true orthodox whodunit author would always leave clues behind, which, if identified and comprehended, would lead any discerning reader to solve the whodunit without the author’s big revelation in the climax. This is virtually impossible in film, because unlike a book, a film is transient in nature - you cannot turn back to page 63 and check what clue the author has left.

0 / 0
Sign in to unlock member-only benefits!
  • Access 10 free stories every month
  • Save stories to read later
  • Access to comment on every story
  • Sign-up/manage your newsletter subscriptions with a single click
  • Get notified by email for early access to discounts & offers on our products
Sign in

Comments

Comments have to be in English, and in full sentences. They cannot be abusive or personal. Please abide by our community guidelines for posting your comments.

We have migrated to a new commenting platform. If you are already a registered user of The Hindu and logged in, you may continue to engage with our articles. If you do not have an account please register and login to post comments. Users can access their older comments by logging into their accounts on Vuukle.